ands, and
True laughed too.

"Did she buy them, Uncle True? Is she rich?" asked Gerty.

"Mrs. Sullivan?--no, indeed!" said True. "Miss Graham bought 'em, and is
going to pay Mrs. Sullivan for making them."

"Who is Miss Graham?"

"She's a lady too good for this world--that's sartin. I'll tell you
about her some time; but better not now, for it's time you were abed and
asleep."

One Sabbath, after Gerty was nearly well, she was so much fatigued that
she went to bed before dark, and for three hours slept soundly. On
awaking, she saw that True had company. An old man, much older than
True, was sitting on the opposite side of the stove, smoking a pipe. His
dress, though ancient and homely, was neat; and his hair was white. He
had sharp features, and Gerty thought from his looks he could say sharp
things. She rightly conjectured that he was Mrs. Sullivan's father, Mr.
Cooper; and she did not widely differ from most other people who knew
the old church-sexton. But both his own face and public opinion somewhat
wronged him. His nature was not a genial one. Domestic trials, and the
fickleness of fortune, had caused him to look on the dark side of
life--to dwell upon its sorrows, and frown upon the bright hopes of the
young and the gay. His occupation did not counteract a disposition to
melancholy; his duties in the church were solitary, and in his old age
he had little intercourse with the world, had become severe toward its
follies, and unforgiving toward its crimes. There was much that was good
and benevolent in him, however; and True Flint knew it. True liked the
old man's sincerity; and many a Sabbath evening had they sat by that
same fireside, and discussed questions of public policy, national
institutions, and individual rights. Trueman Flint was the reverse of
Paul Cooper in disposition and temper, being very sanguine, always
disposed to look upon the bright side of things, and ever averring that
it was his opinion 'twould all come out right at last. On this evening
they had been talking on several of such topics; but when Gerty awoke
she found herself the subject of conversation.

"Where," asked Mr. Cooper, "did you say you picked her up?"

"At Nan Grant's," said True. "Don't you remember her? she's the same
woman whose son you were called up to witness against, at the time the
church-windows were broken. You can't have forgotten her at the trial,
Cooper; for she blew you up with a vengeance, and didn't spare his